


Нечистая сила

by PunishedPyotr



Series: The Esteemed aireyv Crashes Rarepair Week [2]
Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, M/M, Necrophilia, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, i guess, implied Ocelmantis a bit lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-05-07 03:43:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14662608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunishedPyotr/pseuds/PunishedPyotr
Summary: Ocelot strode into the building - Mantis meekly followed, and anyone who glanced at him immediately dismissed his presence, whether because Mantis was psychically forcing attention away from himself or because he was with Ocelot. Ocelot led him to some subbasement or something; in the elevator, he said, almost randomly, “You remember, of course, the Man on Fire.”





	Нечистая сила

**Author's Note:**

> The phrase Unclean Force (Нечистая сила) refers to both the Devil and all demons and potentially harmful in the Russian pantheon. Although the beings of the unclean force resided primarily in the spirit realm (тот свет) they were able to manifest themselves in this world in many forms[.] - Wikipedia
> 
> The Aquarium is the nickname for the GRU headquarters in Moscow btw lmao. Before you ask.

Mantis didn’t like taking calls in the middle of court prep - seemed somehow like bad luck, or something like that. More like a distraction that he couldn’t afford. He was perpetually on thin ice with the FBI, only squeaking by _employed_ because of his peculiar talents. Still, he tried, even if it was only because he had nothing to better to do.

Mantis didn’t like taking calls from Ocelot, either. They’d grown much more rare ever since the KGB folded, but he still called annoyingly often, ostensibly just checking up on him. Of course, the way he only ever inquired after Mantis’ health and hobbies lately would almost seem like he _was_ just concerned about his wellbeing, but Mantis knew better. Ocelot was still keeping an eye on him, them no longer being in the same country working for the same people changed nothing.

Ocelot had called asking a favor this time, which was what Mantis would have disliked most of all, except Ocelot brought up the one thing that Mantis hated even _more:_ the Leningrad University of Parapsychology.

He should have declined. But he owed Ocelot too many favors to not try to pay one back - especially since Ocelot had assured him that the University itself was long gone, this was a GRU issue, and nobody would be trying to kidnap Mantis for study and experimentation, Ocelot would make sure of that. So Mantis got a flight to the still-new Russian Federation, to the airport at Moscow, and was picked up by Ocelot to be driven to the Aquarium.

“We haven’t seen each other since you left for America, now that I think about it,” Ocelot commented.

“…” Mantis shook his head, pulling his coat a little tighter around himself. “Was there a reason you picked me up personally?”

“I figured you would be skeptical of anyone claiming to be sent by me.”

“I can read minds, or have you forgotten?”

“Well, you’re skeptical enough _of me_.”

Mantis fell into a sullen silence that lasted all the rest of the way to the Aquarium. As they parked Ocelot briefly scolded him for being a brat, and Mantis snapped at him for using that accursed nickname he’d appended to him in the privacy of Mantis’ khrushchyovka room shortly after Eli had disappeared in the Middle East.

“What is this about?” Mantis said stiffly as they exited the car.

“You’ll see soon enough,” Ocelot replied, helpful as always.

Ocelot strode into the building - Mantis meekly followed, and anyone who glanced at him immediately dismissed his presence, whether because Mantis was psychically forcing attention away from himself or because he was with Ocelot. Ocelot led him to some subbasement or something; in the elevator, he said, almost randomly, “You remember, of course, the Man on Fire.”

Mantis frowned behind his mask. “Somewhat.”

“Were you aware that the Boss recovered his body after you squished him with Sahelanthropus?”

“Oh… I don’t remember. What is this…?”

“One way or another, from Diamond Dogs the body ended up in the custody of the GRU. He was on loan to the University or something to that affect, but now that the University has folded, he’s ended up back here.”

The elevator stopped. They both silent as they exited it, passed a sentry, and went down a short hallway. Ocelot opened the door for Mantis, to a small empty room with a few chairs and short tables. Like a waiting room at a doctor’s office. The opposite door was shiny chrome and heavy-looking. Mantis was unsettled.

“What does this have to do with me?” he said.

“Due to a rather predictable handling mishap during the transfer, the ‘corpse’ was left unrefrigerated for a period of several weeks. Despite a complete lack of any detectable activity from him ever since leaving Mother Base, there was absolutely no decomposition… meaning that, on some level, he may be still ‘alive’.”

“Good for him. What does this have to do with me?”

Ocelot gave him a sharp look. “You have - or at least _had_ \- a certain connection with the man. All you’re being asked to do is step into that room, take a look at him, and report back whether or not he’s still in there somewhere, or if the lack of decomposition was for other reasons.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s all.” He clapped an insultingly friendly hand to Mantis’ shoulder. “Shouldn’t take more than two minutes.”

Mantis shook his head. “I don’t want to do this,” he said, “just get rid of the body, let him die—“ he turned around, started walking away, “I’m going now—-“

Somehow, when the door closed behind him, it wasn’t the waiting room door but the heavy metal one, and Mantis was standing in a cold room with a gurney in front of him.

He shook himself, frenetically adjusting his coat. “Ocelot?” he said uncertainly, but there was no response from the other side of the door.

Wrapping his arms tightly around himself, Mantis stepped forward. The gurney in front of him held a huge form draped in a white sheet. It stayed perfectly still, totally inanimate, as Mantis approached. Cautiously he circled the gurney. He couldn’t passively sense any sort of presence in the room. Was this, then…?

Hesitantly he extended a hand. It looked skeletal, too pale and too thin, fingers too long, reaching out towards the sheet. With a glance over his shoulder and a deep breath, Mantis grasped the sheet and and pulled it back.

Somehow it felt like he’d never seen the Man on Fire from the third person before.

His mental image of him had always been roughly what his mental energy was like: oppressively large, burning, hurting Mantis to look at. Like some gigantic flame-monster undefined around the edges. The Man on Fire’s actual body seemed small in comparison, though he was still probably the biggest man Mantis had ever seen; but he was just a _man_ , one clad head-to-toe in red rubber, with bullets embedded in him. Mantis couldn’t tell if his eyes were open or closed. Not a part of him moved.

_Definitely dead_ , Mantis told himself, going so far as to give him a psychic poke where his mind would have been if he were alive. Back in 1984 it had been more or less a void, but a hot one, thick with the heat of anger and vengeance, but right now it was just… nothing.

Abruptly Mantis dropped the sheet and spun on his heel, almost running back to the door to the waiting room, and tugging on the handle. “Ocelot?” he said again, “I’m through in here, let me out.” He couldn’t tell if it was locked or just too heavy for him to pull, and it seemed to be lined with lead, putting his psychic powers a little on the fritz. “Ocelot?”

Something moved in the reflection on the door. Suddenly the room felt a lot warmer.

Mantis had barely turned back around and laid eyes on the Man on Fire’s body - now _sitting up on the gurney_ \- when his head erupted in pain, hot and too intense for words, blinding him and forcing him to the floor like a puppet with cut strings.

Then he was between the floor and a crushing, burning weight on his front. He could feel the Man on Fire’s will burrowing into his mind — and he tried to resist it. The days when evil thoughts buried his ego were over, so he thought. His symbiosis with Eli - the way Eli had thought of him not as a tool, but as a partner - had taught him how to stand on his own two feet. He wasn’t going to let his old parasitic host take that away from him. Mantis kicked out.

The weight retreated. Mantis could see again. Somehow the Man on Fire was standing and moving though there was still absolutely nothing in his head, nothing but vague heat. The white sheet was singed; Mantis could feel blisters under his clothes where the Man on Fire had touched him.

“Ocelot!” Mantis called in a panic when a telekinetic push failed to move the Man on Fire, who was advancing again, “Ocelot, open the door!!”

He turned around to pound on the door with his fists but a huge hot hand grabbed him by the back of his neck, lifting him off the floor as he screamed helplessly. He thrashed, choked, somewhere in there the Man on Fire’s other hand got involved and then Mantis’ mask was on the floor - for a moment he was scared of all the thoughts in Moscow pouring into his mind more than he was afraid of the Man on Fire, but either the whole room was lined with lead, not just the door, or else the press of the Man on Fire’s “mind” on his was too goddamn overwhelming.

His knees hit the floor with a crack. The Man on Fire was too close and didn’t even shudder in response to Mantis psychically lifting the gurney and throwing at him - it almost seemed to go straight through the man, landing harmlessly on on the other side of the room with an echoing crash. The Man on Fire grabbed a handful of Mantis’ hair and Mantis could smell it burn.

Mantis was staring up at the Man on Fire’s blank rubber face so fixedly that he didn’t even notice anything had happened to his _pants_ until a fat, poker-hot cock was prodding his cheek. Fear redoubled, Mantis tried to squirm away, pushing back against the Man on Fire’s legs, trying to shake his head out of his grip — the Man on Fire pulled him closer, mashing his face against his pelvis.

Mantis couldn’t help it. He lost it. He started crying.

His struggling was completely ineffectual as the Man on Fire pressed his advantage of Mantis hysterically gasping for breath. Mantis could swear he felt his tongue and the insides of his mouth cooking as the Man on Fire pushed in. He was so big around that Mantis felt like he was going to need the sides of his mouth re-stitched, too.

And that was all Mantis really remembered. The pain of having something too hot and too large forced into his mouth, being held down, a vague sensation of thrusting and the Man on Fire not caring at all that he was dragging his dick methodically back and forth across Mantis’ teeth. Tears streamed down his cheeks and everywhere the Man on Fire touched hurt terribly. It felt like his skull was going to explode.

Then he was lying on the floor in the cold room with Ocelot kneeling next to him, capping a syringe.

Mantis sat up so fast he got dizzy. His mask was gone, he was dishevelled and his skin was red, and the Man on Fire was lying on the gurney exactly as before, covered in a pristine white sheet. “What-—“

“Just a shot of adrenaline to get you to wake up quicker,” Ocelot said smoothly.

“No, I meant—“

“You were taking longer than I thought you would, so I came in to check on you…” he glanced over his shoulder at the gurney behind him, “…though I don’t much like being in the same room as that. Anyway, you were passed out on the floor and unresponsive. How are you feeling?”

Mantis was silent. His head was spinning still, and Ocelot handing him his mask to put back on didn’t help any. He didn’t understand what happened, didn’t understand why all the physical evidence was gone - had he just hallucinated the whole thing? — he could still _taste_ it.

“So?” Ocelot said.

Mantis started. “So, what?”

“Is he alive or not? Was there anything there?” He helped Mantis to his feet - seemed he was almost as eager to get out of here as Mantis was, though he was hiding it better.

Mantis shook his head. “Get rid of him— it. The body. Just destroy it. Why are they even keeping it around? It’s no good, get rid of it…”

“I take it you didn’t sense anything.”

The door closed behind them. Mantis felt oddly like they were upside-down, standing on the ceiling, and gravity was reversed.

“Or else you didn’t like what you sensed.”

“He’s dead,” Mantis said. “Let the dead stay dead.”

“For once we’re in agreement, Bogomolechik.”

Mantis just nodded.


End file.
